The Boy at the Window
by pizzaDORK
Summary: rating changed to PG13 to be safe inspired by 'Peter Pan' Jack Kelley breathed deeply as he climbed the trellis that led to the Newman’s balcony. From there he would be able to hear sixteen-year old, Maggie Newman read to her younger brothers.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Yay! A new story! happy dance Okay, this story was inspired by _Peter Pan_. I don't think it's ever been done before, so I hope everyone enjoys it. Please review. Thanks!

Disclaimer: Disney owns _Newsies_. Robert Louis Stevenson wrote _Treasure Island._ I'm not sure who owns the rights to it at the present time, but it isn't me. I also do not own _Peter Pan._ Please don't sue me. Thank you.

Chapter 1

Jack Kelley breathed deeply as he climbed the trellis that led to the Newman's balcony. From there he would be able to hear sixteen-year old, Maggie Newman read to her younger brothers: Spencer, 11, and Tate, 7.

Every night when he was through selling his papers, Jack would climb to the balcony and hide in the shadows, listening to Maggie's voice carrying through the open window.

Maggie was a brilliant storyteller. Well, actually, she was a brilliant story _reader_. She would read from the many books she had, doing the characters voices and acting out the motions. It was a one-woman spectacle. Jack loved it.

He would always take the stories that he heard back to the lodging house, where he would re-tell them to the other newsboys. He wasn't as good at telling the stories as Maggie was, but he did his best, and the boys enjoyed it. They were always going on about whatever new story was being told, asking Jack what he thought would happen next or when he thought the story would end so they could begin a new one.

Tonight, Maggie was continuing her plight through Robert Louis Stevenson's _Treasure Island_. She was just beginning as Jack neared the window.

"Alright," she said, standing before the open window, facing her brothers, "where did we leave off?"

"Silver's captured Jim," Tate answered excitedly.

"Captain Flint was saying something about 'pieces of eight,'" Spencer added.

"Oh, yes, yes. Well, let's see," Maggie said, flipping through the book, "Yes, here we are. _Part Six: Captain Silver_," she read, "_Chapter 28: In the Enemy's Camp_," she drew a long, dramatic breath and began reading, "_The red glare of the torch, lighting up the interior of the blockhouse, showed me the worst of my apprehensions realized. The pirates were in possession of the house and stores_…"

Jack listened intently, trying to remember every detail for when he re-told the story to the boys back at the lodging house.

"…_And he took another swallow of the brandy, shaking his great fair head like a man who looks forward to the worst_," Maggie read, "Well, that's all for tonight, boys," she said, closing the book briskly, "Now it's time for bed."

"Please read us just a little more," Tate pleaded.

"Yes, just a few more pages," Spencer said.

"No, it's already half past nine," Maggie said, "You two should have been asleep ages ago. Goodnight."

She kissed each boy on the forehead, turned off the light, and left the room. Jack sighed. He couldn't wait to tell the boys the some more of the story. Or to hear the end of it. Just as he was turning to leave, he caught a glimpse of Maggie through her bedroom window, which was next to her brother's. Jack smiled to himself. He watched as she let her auburn hair down and brushed it quickly, and he blushed furiously and turned away as she began to unbutton her blouse.

She was a pretty girl, but Jack has seen prettier. She had soft features and large hazel eyes, but a rather pointed nose. Jack had heard her tell her mother once that she thought her nose looked like a giant beak that gave her the appearance of being a homely, squat bird. Jack laughed at that thought. He didn't think Maggie was homely or squatty and she certainly didn't have a beak. He thought she was rather pleasant looking. He laughed at these thoughts as he climbed down the trellis and headed off towards the lodging house to tell the boys what had happened to Jim Hawkins.

A/N: Please review!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"So what do ya' think's gonna' happen next, Jack?" Mush asked when Jack had finished his rendition of Chapter 28 of _Treasure Island_.

"I dunno'," Jack replied, slumping onto his bunk.

"This is a good story. Better 'dan 'da last one," Racetrack said before taking a long puff on his cigar.

"That's what you said about the last story," Blink said, laughing.

"Yeah, I know, but this one—this one's good," Race replied.

"Yeah, it is. Lots of adventure and stuff," Jack stated from his place on his bunk.

"Yeah," all the boys agreed simultaneously.

Jack sighed as the lights were turned off and everyone headed to bed. He lay in his bunk for an hour or so, unable to sleep, just staring at the ceiling above him. Finally, he rose from his bed and headed to the roof. From there he could see what felt like all of New York—all of the world even—his world, anyway. He replayed all of the stories he had heard Maggie tell in his mind. So many of them ran together and the edges blurred creating an epic of characters and settings that often times confused themselves with his memories.

He lived for the stories Maggie read from her books. He wished that he could buy books of his own, but all he could afford to read was the headline. He dreamed to write a story of his own someday—maybe it would be about cowboys in Santa Fe or life as a newsie. He didn't know. All who knew was that he wanted to write. Only problem was he didn't have the means. Just like he couldn't afford books, he couldn't afford paper and pencils. _Oh, well,_ he thought, sighing to himself, _maybe someday_. And with that, he headed down the fire escape and climbed back into his bed.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"…_And he cast down upon the floor a paper that I instantly recognized—none other than the chart on yellow paper, with three red crosses, that I had found in the oilcloth at the bottom of the—"_

Jack was listening to Maggie read when a gaunt woman who Jack recognized as Maggie's mother burst into Spencer and Tate's room.

"Maggie, your father and I are leaving. Your Aunt Beatrice is downstairs. Don't give her any trouble," Mrs. Newman said. Then she kissed each of her children on the forehead, said her goodbyes and hurried out of the door.

"Well, where was I?" Maggie muttered to herself, scanning the page she had been reading from, "Here it is…_that I had found in the oilcloth at the bottom of the captain's-"_

Jack sneezed.

"What was that?" Maggie asked.

"The boy who listens at the window sneezed," Tate answered.

"What boy at the window?" Maggie asked, moving to the window and peering outside.

"The boy who listens at the window. He's there every night, listening to you read, I suppose," Tate said.

"And you never told me about him?" Maggie inquired.

"You never asked," Tate answered matter-of-factly.

"Well, then," Maggie said, "Let's just see about this boy at the window."

And with that she picked up Tate's wooden sword, walked to the door that led to the balcony, opened it, and walked outside.

"Stop right there," she said, brandishing the wooden sword at Jack's fleeting back. He was moving across the balcony through the shadows and was almost to the trellis when she saw him. He stopped dead in his tracks.

"Turn around," Maggie ordered. Jack did as he was told.

"Who are you," she asked, still holding the sword in front of her as if Jack would attack at any moment.

"Kelly. Jack Kelly," Jack answered, taking a step forward and extending his hand to Maggie.

"Don't come any closer," she said, brandishing the sword some more, "What are you doing here?"

"Well, you see, I like your stories—y'know, 'da stories you read to your brothers. I come here every night and listen to you readin', and 'den I go back to the lodging house and tell the stories to my friends," Jack said.

"Oh, well, I see," Maggie said, lowering the sword a bit, "Well, I'm Margaret Newman."

"Maggie. I know," Jack said, as Maggie took his hand and shook it.

"What all do you know about me?" she asked.

"Well, you got two brothers, Spencer and Tate. Your father works at the bank and your mother likes to go to fancy parties. Your sixteen and your brothers are eleven and seven. You have a Great-Aunt Beatrice who's old and sleeps a lot, and your dream is to be an actress, but your mother would never hear of it," Jack said, "She thinks the stage is for tramps and vagrants, and she wants you to marry a wealthy man."

"Well," Maggie said, swallowing, "That's quite a lot. I'm glad you like to hear the books I read, though."

"Oh, I do. I really do," Jack replied, "And the boys back at the lodging house really enjoy 'em, too."

"Lodging house?"

"Yeah, I'm a newsie," Jack said proudly.

"Maggie, Aunt Beatrice is coming. You better get inside," Spencer called out the window.

"Right," Maggie said, "Well, it was lovely meeting you, Jack Kelly. You're welcome to listen to me read anytime you like."

"Thanks. I hope I didn't scare you too much earlier," Jack answered, motion towards the wooden sword Maggie still held in her hand.

"Oh, no, not at all," she said, hiding the sword behind her back, "Goodnight, Jack."

"Goodnight," he said, and he climbed over the edge of the balcony and down the trellis.

Maggie moved to the edge of the balcony to watch Jack retreat down the street and into the darkness.

"Maggie, what are you doing outside," Aunt Beatrice said, standing at the open door, "You'll catch your death of cold out there. Get inside."

Maggie sighed and obeyed her aunt. And for the rest of the night and the next day, as desperately as she tried, she couldn't forget the boy at the window, listening to her read every night.

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A/N: Please review. I'll try to update as soon as possible. Goodbye for now!


	4. Chapter 4

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Shout-Outs

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Gracie Jane: I probably would have called 911, too. lol. That is weird about our characters' names. I'll have to check out your story. Thanks for your review.

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Song Birdy: Jack does make a funny Peter Pan, doesn't he? Can't you just see him running around in green tights? haha. Thanks for your review.

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Rachel: It's okay to sound like an English teacher every now and then…just don't make a habit out of it. lol. I'm glad you think my story is well written. I try. Thanks for your review.

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Aimee: I'm updating! I'm glad my story is your favorite. That makes me happy. lol. Thanks for your review.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I appreciate your support, and I hope you enjoy these next few chapters.

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Disclaimer: Disney owns _Newsies_. Robert Louis Stevenson wrote _Treasure Island_. I'm not sure who owns the rights to it at the present time, but it isn't me. I also do not own _Peter Pan_. Please don't sue me. Thank you.

Chapter 4

"Mother, will you be coming home soon?" Tate was asking when Jack arrived at the window the following evening.

"Oh, yes, dear. Your father and I will only be gone for a few days," Mrs. Newman answered.

She was sitting in a chair near the window with Tate in her lap. Spencer was sitting on his bed and Maggie was leaning on the doorframe, book in hand.

"Really, Mother, I don't see why you have to go. Can't Father handle the bank's business in Virginia on his own?" Maggie said curtly.

"Young lady, your father needs all the support he can get. I am accompanying him to Virginia to show him and the bank that I support him. Besides, he'll need a date for all those lavish dinner parties he'll be attending in Richmond," she said, pushing Tate gently off her lap and standing. "Now," she continued, "I want all of you to be nothing but kind, tolerant, and helpful towards your aunt while we're gone. I won't have my children misbehaving. And Maggie, please don't read for too long tonight. I want all of you in bed early so that you can be up in time to see your father and me off in the morning," she said, then she told the children goodnight and kissed each of them on the forehead before leaving the room.

"Jack?" Maggie asked, opening the door to the balcony, "Jack, are you out there?"

"I'm here," Jack replied, appearing before her.

"Right. Well, would you like to come in?"

"Oh, no, I'm fine out here," Jack said.

"Really, I insist," Maggie replied.

"Only if you insist," Jack said, following Maggie into the room.

"Have a seat," she said, motioning to the chair her mother had been sitting in moments ago.

Jack glanced around the room apprehensively and took a seat.

"Where were we before Aunt Beatrice made us go to bed," Maggie said, flipping through the book, "Ah, yes, here we are…_And he cast down upon the floor a paper that I instantly recognized—none other than the chart on yellow paper, with the three red crosses, that I had found in the oilcloth at the bottom of the captain's chest. Why would the doctor had given it to him was more that I could fancy_…

"…_yet my heart was sore for him, wicked as he was, to think on the dark perils that environed, and the shameful gibbet that awaited him_. Well, that's the end of Chapter 29," Maggie said, closing the book, "Now Jack, I must ask you to leave as the boys and I must be getting to bed early this evening."

"Goodnight," Jack said, extending his hand to her, "Thanks for lettin' me listen."

"Anytime. Goodnight," Maggie replied, shaking his hand and showing him to the door.

She watched as he climbed over the edge of the balcony and descended to the street below, and she wondered why she felt so captivated by this strange boy who enjoyed hearing her read.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Jack, are you listening?" Maggie asked.

It had been three nights since Jack had been discovered, and instead of sitting in the cool September wind outside, he was nestled warmly in a chair by the window letting his eyes wander over Maggie as she read aloud.

"What? Oh, yeah, I'm listenin'," Jack replied, turning a marvelous shade of crimson.

"Right. Well, then," Maggie continued, "_And thereupon we all entered the cave. It was a large, airy place, with a little spring and a pool of clear water, overhung with ferns. The floor was sand. Before a big fire lay_..."

"Someone's coming," Tate said.

Everyone turned their attention to the door through which they could hear footsteps on the stairs.

"It's Aunt Beatrice," Maggie said, closing the book, "Jack, I'm sorry, but could you wait outside the window until she's gone."  
"Yeah," Jack said, standing and hurrying to the door.

Just as he closed the door, Aunt Beatrice erupted into the room, a handkerchief in her hand and tears in her eyes.

"Aunt Beatrice, what's wrong?" Maggie asked, moving across the room to her aunt.

"Oh, Margaret," Aunt Beatrice said, pulling the girl to her bosom and sobbing loudly, "my poor, poor Margaret."

"Aunt Beatrice, really, what is wrong?" Maggie asked again, pushing away from her aunt.

"Oh, children, it's your parents. There was a fire at the hotel in Richmond," she said, sobbing louder than before.

"Well, they're all right aren't they?" Maggie asked, as Tate hugged her tightly around her middle.

Aunt Beatrice sniffled, "I'm afraid not. They didn't make it out in time." Here she broke into uncontrollable sobs and wails.

"What do you mean, 'They didn't make it out in time,'" Maggie asked sternly, "You mean…they're dead."

Aunt Beatrice let out a long, loud wail, "Yes."

Jack turned away. He couldn't stand to hear anymore of this. For a long he just stood in the shadows of the balcony, his head resting against the wall, just thinking. He didn't really even know what he was thinking about. His mind wandered every which way: his mother's death; his father in prison; the strike; how Sarah had broken up with him, but he and David remained friends; Santa Fe; Maggie's stories; Spencer, Tate, and Maggie losing their parents. Everything seemed to run together and blur at the edges, leaving him drained and hurting. He was just slumping to the balcony floor when he heard a door slam.

He stood up and turned to see Maggie lying on the floor in her room. As he stood watching her, she stood up, her eyes flooded with tears, and stood before her chest-of-drawers. Sitting on the top of it was what looked to be a very expensive porcelain doll and next to the doll was a framed picture of her family. Jack watched as Maggie picked up the picture, looked at it for a few moments, and then slammed it into the doll's head, knocking it to the floor where it broke into a million pieces. She then threw the picture across the room, causing it to hit the wall and shatter as well. After her tantrum, she fell to the floor and picked up a broken piece of the doll.

Jack quietly moved to the window, opened it, and climbed into Maggie's room.

"Are you alright?" he asked, sitting beside Maggie.

"No," she said, squeezing the piece of glass tightly in her hand.

Jack wrapped his arms around her and wrenched the glass from her hand when small drops of blood began to spill to the floor.

"It's alright," he cooed, taking Maggie's bleeding hand in his own and rubbing her back slowly, "It's alright."

"I loved this doll," Maggie cried.

"It's alright," Jack said again, "Shh. It's alright."

After a long time, Jack pulled away from Maggie and placed his hands on either side of her face, forcing her to look him in the eye.

"Come away with me," he said.

"What?"

"Come away with me. Come live at the lodging house with me. Get away from all this," he said, motioning around the room.

"I can't do that, Jack," Maggie responded, "What about Spencer and Tate?"

"They can come, too," Jack replied.

"What about my parents? They're funeral is on Tuesday, and my father's lawyer is coming in the morning to go over the will."

"Come with me on Wednesday," Jack said.

"What about Aunt Beatrice?"

"She'll be fine without you. She's a big girl; she can take care of herself."

"Jack, I can't just leave," she said, sighing.

"I understand," he said, standing up  
"Thank you, Jack," Maggie whispered, as he climbed out of the window and down the balcony.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Your parents stated in their will that upon their death, if any one of you was under the age of 21 and unmarried, you would be in the custody of your Aunt Beatrice," the lawyer, Mr. Bradshaw, was saying the following morning, "Also, they split all of their possessions equally between the three of you. You each receive a third of this house, your mother's jewelry, and the money in the bank. Now, it seems that upon their death, the money in your parent's account will be split into thirds and put into three separate accounts—one in each of your names. Your parents have requested that you not be allowed to open these accounts until your twenty-first birthdays."

Maggie sighed; she couldn't believe this was happening. Her parents had been alive only days before and now here she was listening to their will being read by a stuffy lawyer in a bad suit. She tuned out as Mr. Bradshaw droned on about bank accounts and funeral arrangements.

"How much money was in my parent's account?" Maggie asked suddenly.

Mr. Bradshaw glanced at the paper before him, "$30,000. That's $10,000 for each of you."

"Well, I think that will be all for now," Aunt Beatrice said, standing up, "Thank you, Mr. Bradshaw."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Two days passed and before Maggie knew it, she was standing before her parent's graves as a minister lectured about God's love and grace. Maggie glanced around the cemetery and through her black mourning veil saw Jack standing at a nearby grave, reading the tombstone. He stood there for a long time, just staring at the ground, and when the service was over, Maggie hurried over to him.

"Jack," she said as she approached him, "What are you doing here?"  
"I was in the neighborhood," he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets and staring at his shoes, "Your parents made the front page of the paper."

"I saw," Maggie said, staring at her shoes as well, "Are you going to come hear my read tonight? Tate's been wondering where you've been the last couple of days, and he wouldn't let me read anymore of _Treasure Island_ since you weren't there to hear it."

"I'll be there tonight," he said, smiling, "I just thought…I thought maybe you'd need some time…after what happened."

"Oh. Well, I have to go. I'm sure Aunt Beatrice is wondering where I am. Goodbye, Jack."  
"Bye."

Jack watched as she turned and ran through the cemetery towards her Aunt and brothers.

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A/N: Well, I hope you enjoyed these chapters. Please review and keep reading! Thanks! I'll update as soon as possible.


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